Poetry

Such a night of reverence may I be with her,
And the closing hour of Misery’s cruelty in the prime of my
delight,
The time may be the most precious after all,
But who repeal turmoil of loneliness?
Who dare burn hay full of soreness to glimpse at me smile?
Well I stand before her and the moment is bliss.
As colours explode in the midst of the darkness,
And the sky is lit up by a fit of chrome,
I simply gaze into her eyes,
And she gazes back...


While my veins melt in effect to her feeling my face,
I find my hand on her neck,
To stare at the Aurora Borealis is a trance,
Then glancing into her eyes is a dream,
Though no colours fly in this dream,
They still burst all around,
And as her tender lips meet mine,
We set alight the period of pure zeal,
All be right in my reality,
Since she buried Misery in the most magical moment…